"Dr. Steinmann, if you will follow me sir." I followed the perky air hostess to my first class seat. She was thin, too skinny for my taste but she was friendly. I was the first to be seated and as requested, it was a seat near the window. "So you are a doctor? What kind? I mean, what do you do?"
"I make the world a more beautiful place... Candy." I read her nametag and flirtatiously looked into her blue eyes. I could not help but imagine what she would look like with an eyelift or a little enhancement here and there. Maybe a young Brigitte Bardot.
"Sounds interesting. Maybe you can tell me more about it later?" Okay, this was too easy.
"Unfortunately beautiful, I need to catch some sleep before I see my next patient—perhaps another time." I took the blanket she offered me and leaned back in my seat to think about the past few days. I was beginning to tire of the game. Easy sex bored me. Poor Candy was just another empty canvas, waiting for me to paint on her and make her "beautiful."
I was glad to be leaving Minneapolis. Although it was a productive trip—I scheduled several procedures—I looked forward to going home. Of course Serena had been a pleasant distraction, her breasts had set perfectly and she enjoyed her new body—and so did I. But in the end she was just another woman sporting my enhancements, empty of personality. What the hell is wrong with me? I have everything I’ve ever wanted—money, fame, sex. Fuck.
"Dr. Steinmann? Can I get you anything?" It was Candy again, this time holding a glass of champagne and a bottle of water. I smiled at her. "You know what Candy? On secon
d thought I think there is something you can give me." Twenty minutes later, I returned to my seat, covered myself with my blanket and waited to arrive at the Des Moines airport.
* * *
Thank goodness, my housekeeper had visited while I was gone. New shirts and suits hung up in my closet straight from the dry cleaner. I really need to give that woman a raise. I sat at my massive wooden desk, opened the bottom drawer, removed a bottle of my favorite whiskey along with a crystal glass, and set them on my desk. I poured a drink while I powered up my laptop. I had a ton of emails but I only opened the ones from my assistant. The rest of these could wait. I was tempted to open the two from my brother but I decided against it. Did I have time to deal with him right now? Mr. Perfect with his Perfect Family. He was always preaching to me about slowing down, as if I were an old man. For God's sake, I was only 34 and in great shape. That reminded me; I needed to hit the gym in the morning. My brother Slate was just jealous of what I had. There was no way his boring little wife could keep him interested forever. No way was he fooling me. I remembered the guy I grew up with—Slate had always been much more of a player than I had.
My trip to Kansas City looked to be profitable. I read through the list, which included the name Lilly Brightwood. She had been a breath of fresh air. Something in her sweet voice interested me. Like many women, she was clearly unsure of herself and to be honest, we hadn't talked very long but I was excited about meeting her tomorrow. I scrolled through the list and saw a few familiar names. Claire Whittington — now that was a name I recognized. I dialed the number from the list expecting to hear Claire's husky voice on the other end. Claire's voice was magic, especially when she put her dainty tongue in my ear.
"Hello?" A sleepy voice answered. I picked up the clock – 11 p.m. Probably too late to be calling clients, even the friendly ones.
"Hello — Claire?"
"No, this is Lilly. Dr. Steinmann?" Damn! What did I just do?
"My apologies, Miss Brightwood. I obviously called the wrong number." God she had a sexy voice—sexier than Claire's.
"Wow, you take these house calls seriously, don't you? Returning a patient's call at this hour?" She gave a soft laugh. I didn't want to hang up with her. I could play this game.
"Well you know how it goes, neither rain nor snow..."
"Actually, I think that's for the post office." Another soft laugh... Hmm...the charming Miss Brightwood had a sense of humor.
"You're probably right, it's late and I'm tired. I am sorry that I interrupted your sleep, if you were sleeping."
"Yes, but I just went to bed. No worries, doctor. I will let you go so you can make that call. I will see you tomorrow at three. Good night."
"Good night, Miss Brightwood." I hung up the phone and sat at my desk staring at the computer screen. Out of curiosity, I searched her name and a variety of pictures popped up. I narrowed her down by her state. Oh Miss Brightwood, you are lovely. I stared at her picture but not critically as I usually did. It was the side profile shot of a young woman with loose blonde curls, a wide smile and perfectly white teeth. I could not be sure for eye color but I suspected they were green or hazel. I stared at her feeling slightly aroused. Damn! I closed the computer forgetting all about Claire. I took my bottle with me and headed to the shower, remembering Lilly's face and fantasizing about her body. I could not wait to meet her, see her breasts and ass. I was sure she would not disappoint.
Chapter Three
Lilly
"Guess who I talked to last night?" I pushed a wayward curl away from my face and gave my friend a mischievous grin.
"I don't know...that guy in your building...Ted?"
"What? He's not interested in me; he's in love with himself. He cannot pass through the lobby without staring at himself in the mirror. I hate it when guys are self-obsessed. No, keep guessing."
Kate leaned on her arms, looking tired and slightly disheveled. Was that the same outfit she wore yesterday? It suddenly hit me; my dark-haired friend was crabby because she had spent half the night carousing—probably with the angst-laden songwriter and musician, Riley Patterson.
“Okay, what gives Kate? Tell the truth, you hooked up with Riley Patterson yesterday and you haven’t been home yet. Was it worth it, girl? I mean,” I whispered in a low voice so our droning professor would not hear us. “Was it?”
I didn’t condemn my friend, I was just curious about her experience. If anyone was ever a “Bohemian,” it was Kate. She went from one relationship to the next looking for the perfect lovemaking experience. It was not that she was a whore—no, she would not sleep with you because she was desperate for sex. If Kate chose you for some playtime, it was because she wanted to find out how you performed. If she liked the experience, she would stick with that lover for a month, sometimes up to three, and then she was bored again.
When I first met Kate, I was shocked by her methods and practices but now, I accepted her for who she was—a fun-loving, softhearted young woman curious about the world and the people in it. A natural beauty, Kate and I were exact opposites, physically. She had a little behind, ample breasts and long legs. I had a round, shapely rear but I was stuck at a B cup for a bosom. I had a narrow waist; Kate’s was straight and kind of mannish. She frequently talked about wearing a corset to get a wispier shape.
“No, it wasn’t worth it. He had to bring his girlfriend too and she would not let me explore him like I wanted too. She was kind of an attention whore—it was not really about her but about Riley. Maybe I will get the chance to play with him without her around. I hope so or I will have to move on.”